


Humble Pie

by superstringtheory



Series: Dinner Date [3]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Belly Kink, Chair Sex, Established Relationship, F/M, Feeding Kink, Food Kink, Food Porn, Light Dom/sub, Making Up, Mild Hurt/Comfort, No Spoilers, Penis In Vagina Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Stuffing, Teasing, Weight Gain, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 02:26:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19714414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superstringtheory/pseuds/superstringtheory
Summary: Hopper and Joyce have a disagreement. Hopper eats his feelings.





	Humble Pie

**Author's Note:**

> No S3 spoilers. This is, for all intents and purposes, an AU post-S2 where Joyce and Hopper are happily dating and everything is great. No supernatural business.

He really should’ve known better, in more ways than one. 

Firstly-- and he knows this, he really does-- Joyce is much more an expert in teenage parenting than he is. It’s not going to do him any good to criticize her decisions when it comes to her sons, and what does he think, that being a father to a dead little girl and a fourteen-year-old who often telekinetically slams the door in his face would make him some kind of font of parental wisdom? Bullshit. 

So, clearly, he owes Joyce an apology. Possibly more than one. 

Secondly, eating a whole pie in one sitting was probably not his best idea. 

*** 

Hopper’s not sure how long it’s been, because he’s been lying there in his recliner waiting for the vultures to come and pick him off, but there’s a knock at the door. 

“Hopper?” It’s Joyce, and she doesn’t sound particularly upset. Well. Maybe they both just needed some time to cool off. And enough time for him to shove a Thanksgiving dinner’s worth of dessert down his throat. 

“Door’s open,” he calls, and grimaces as his stomach rumbles unhappily. 

“Hey.” Joyce lets herself in and then stands in the doorway. Hopper watches her head swivel from looking at him in the recliner, then to the little kitchen table with the empty pie tin. 

“I’m sorry,” Hopper sighs, just as Joyce says, “Sorry I snapped at you,” and there’s a pause as Joyce eyes the pie tin again, then scans his body, belly-first. 

The cabin isn’t that big, but still- Joyce is by his side before Hopper really knows what’s happening. And then her hands are on him, and he can’t help hiccupping from fullness as she presses at the curve of his abdomen. 

“What all’d you put in here, Hop?” Joyce’s little bird fingers are tugging at his waistband. There’s a brief, excruciating squeeze as she pulls at his belt to get it undone, then unmistakable relief as his belly surges forward to fill the space. 

Hopper groans, and Joyce pats his undershirt as she undoes his uniform buttons one by one. “Ugh… too much,” he says, and Joyce skewers him with a simple look as he leans back into the chair. 

“And just how much is too much for you, Jim?” Her voice is innocent like a thin layer of ice is safe to walk on. It’s all part of the game they play, and Hopper’s frustration melts away. Joyce always likes to know how much he’s eaten; it really gets her going. Sometimes he’ll call her from his office with the door closed and the blinds down, still chewing, and recite his Burger King order as she squirms on the other end of the line. 

“Fuck…” Hopper lets out a little sound that’s somewhere between pained and gratified. Joyce prods his belly and he belches, then sighs, watching as Joyce’s cheeks pinken. If that’s how they’re going to do this, then he’s going to have his fun, too. 

“Well,” he starts, and pauses for another deep belch. “Excuse me. Well, I stopped off at the diner and got some apple pie. You know how I like that apple pie.” 

Joyce nods, but she looks disappointed. “Just a slice?” She’s still moving her hands around, massaging his stomach where it feels tight, and Hopper almost laughs at the look on her face. God, what did he ever do to deserve this woman? This gorgeous woman who’ll watch him eat himself sick with a look of reverence on her face, then get herself off by rutting up against his fat gut? 

Hopper sighs again for effect. “Well… it wasn’t just a slice.” He shifts his weight and Joyce bites her lip as she watches him. “I told the waitress it was for the office.” He winks, and Joyce climbs onto his lap. The chair creaks at the added weight, but Hopper knows it’s not really from Joyce. 

Joyce bends over to give him a quick kiss on the lips, then works at the last buttons at the top of his shirt. She rucks his undershirt up over the crest of his belly and draws in a quick little huffy breath. Hopper reaches out and cups her cheek in his hand and Joyce leans into it for a second, kissing his palm before leaning down to kiss his stomach. 

It doesn’t take long for Joyce to be straddling him, and Hopper does his best to help her take her own shirt off even though now that he’s more horizontal he can’t think of moving much. He’s too full, content to lie there like a beached whale or a glutted grizzly bear preparing for winter hibernation. 

“Fuck,” Hopper says as Joyce’s creamy skin and simple bra are revealed. She’s never been one to doll herself up, to present herself as anything more than she is, and Hopper can’t imagine anything more beautiful. 

“You too full to fuck, Hop?” Joyce asks, and whole pie or no, he could never turn her down. Not like this. 

His voice sounds a little strained even to his own ears, but it’s hard to concentrate when Joyce is on top of him like this, flicking her hair out of her eyes. 

“Never,” he says, and at that, Joyce’s mouth quirks. 

“We’ll see about that,” she says. “Some other time.” She gives his gut a hard little slap and Hopper moans. 

“Do you want me to take my pants off, Jim?” Joyce is already climbing off of him, her hand going to the fly of her jeans. 

“Please, please,” Hopper pants, and then she’s naked, and then she’s tugging at his pants. 

“I want you inside me,” Joyce tells him seriously. “So I need you to lift that fat ass up so I can get your pants down. Is that okay with you, Jim?” 

God, is it ever. It’s more effort than he’d like to admit, and the change in position makes him burp a few more times, but that’s probably for the best. 

Joyce doesn’t bother with taking his pants off all the way- as soon as they’re past his knees, she’s already on top of him, hot and slick. 

She helps him inside of her and-- true to her word-- doesn’t make him do much. In fact, his inability to move seems to work in their favor. 

“Did you eat so much you couldn’t get up, Hop?” Joyce wants to know, and Hopper considers. Whole pie or no, he probably could’ve eaten a little more-- he’s interrupted by a pause in Joyce’s hip motions. She leans forward, and her breasts are deliciously smothering him as she whispers. 

“I want you to say yes, Hop.” Oh. Right. The game. 

“Ask me again.” He finds Joyce’s eyes and is pleased to see how wide her pupils are, and the flush imbuing her face. 

Joyce bites her lip, then repeats the question. 

Hopper allows himself a little moan before answering this time, enjoying the effect on Joyce, who swivels her hips a little faster and makes a small, desperate noise in her throat. 

“Tell you the truth, Joyce,” he says, chewing the words around in his mouth like so much apple pie. “Ate so much I couldn’t get up. Just couldn’t help myself. Gotta keep this fat gut satisfied.” He finds one of her hands with his and pulls it to the side of his belly, helping her to grab a big handful of flesh. 

“You feel this, Joyce?” 

She’s nodding as she makes more of those desperate noises, and the look in her eye is getting desperate. 

“That’s my fat gut. Got like this because I can’t stop eating myself sick on pie and burgers and… well, pretty much anything I can get.” 

Joyce shudders a little, and Hopper knows that she’s getting close. Her fingernails are sharp and her breath is coming in quick little pants. 

“You’re getting me so fat, honey,” Hopper says, and can’t help grinning as he feels Joyce contract around him, hears her familiar sounds of pleasure. 

Joyce goes limp on top of him for a few moments afterwards, and he’s content to hold her, to press kisses into her hair and feel oh-so-pleasantly smothered by her chest. 

It’s wonderful, it really is, but it’s a little much for a stomach containing a Coke and a whole pie. Hopper shifts a little, hiccupping, and Joyce opens her eyes. 

She dismounts him like a gymnast and Hopper will never stop watching her in wonder. 

Joyce bends down to his ear. 

“You were already fat when I got here,” Joyce murmurs. “Now let’s see what I can do about  _ that _ …” Her hand finds his cock, and that’s the last coherent thought Hopper can muster. 

*** 

All too soon, Hopper is blinking awake to Joyce gently kissing his forehead. 

“You were…” he trails off. “Well. You know. You knocked my socks off. You always do.” He squeezes her hand, and Joyce smiles. 

“Sorry about passing out right after,” Hopper says. “I just…” 

“Don’t worry,” Joyce says breezily. “Eating a whole pie can do that to a man.” She winks. 

“Say, Hop?” 

“Yeah?” 

“You think you’ve got any room in there for dessert?” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Hopper says. “I guess I could do with a bite or two.” 

*** 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic brought to you by David Harbour's S3 dad bod and the shirtless scenes I will never stop thinking about. 
> 
> Find me on tumblr at superstringtheory.tumblr.com.


End file.
